Thursday

Oh clouded eyes and I can't see



I tiptoe through my days now, praying with every breath, praying with every stitch I knit, watching jays fly overhead, standing in chill of night while rain beats down, taking in every glowing star, delighting in each night's moon, refusing to take anything for granted.  I can't see straight sometimes when the tears cloud my green eyes, but it's okay because the tears don't fall, they sit there as a reminder that there is something greater than all of this and I don't need to see.  I don't.  I just need to remember there is something greater. 

I spend a day heartbroken over the darkness; a friend's mother dies from cancer just a few weeks after they learn it is consuming her, a broken system lets a father and husband's killer off because of a badge, darkness and turmoil just rage and people can't hear past the pain and there is hate and hurt and where is hope?  And as the moon rises gloriously once again, hope creeps in with phone calls; my sister's beautiful engagement, and the birth of new life to a friend.  I rejoice and I mourn and I wonder how to keep going when things don't make sense and it's the tears and the cloudiness that remind me; I don't need to see, I just need to remember there is something greater. 

I reach out to one of the wisest voices I know, begging for something, some insight, something to make the heartache lessen, and I find truth in her words.  "I think in some ways, that's our job here; to mourn with those who mourn and keep being witnesses to the suffering."  I witness.  I do.  I witness the pain, the suffering, the hurt.  I witness the darkness while I hold my candle, flame aglow, this little bit of light, this little bit of light is the Light and I will hold it while you cry and I will cry with you and I will not let this Light go out and together we will walk.  We will walk.  Through your darkness.  In your pain.  We will walk and the Light will shine even when we are consumed.

And this, "Maybe this is where we find real humility, Amy, in this heart-broken place, knowing we can do nothing but pray and love?"  I hear the cries, the pain, the anger and I can do nothing, nothing, but pray and love.  I want someone that can do something to hear them, their cries, to hear me.  Pray and love.  The only Someone that can do anything does hear them, does hear me.  Clouded eyes, I don't need to see, remember something greater, Something Greater hears us.  Hears us and He weeps with us.  Oh He weeps.  The Light, shining in this darkness, weeping for our pain.   The clouded eyes, Something Greater, and  He will wipe our tears, He will bring vision and light once again.  A little bit peeks through; life, love continues; marriage, birth, He is here in the midst.  Pray and love.  Pray and love.  There is comfort to be found.

3 comments:

  1. Oh Amy...Such beauty here. Such tenderness. I can't believe prayers like these are ever in vain or ever forgotten. Thank you for your tender compassion and hunger for justice. Love you so.

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  2. I have tears in my eyes too Amy. There is so much pain and yet so much beauty too. Thank you for these gentle words dear friend. xx

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